


Bound to Want It

by DesaturatedDemon (Pastellorama)



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Assault, Bondage, Cussing, Fingering, Gay Sex, Grooming, Hard fuck, M/M, Oral Sex, Physical Abuse, Robbery, Sexual Abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, Verbal Abuse, bareback, break in, conflicted feelings, criminal activity, drunk, forced entry, handjob, hogtied, intoxicated, masked attack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-07 14:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastellorama/pseuds/DesaturatedDemon
Summary: While trying to ride out a bad mood, Arthur Morgan comes across a ranch and its surly occupant. Already irritable, it only takes a few mean words for Arthur's anger to get the best of him.





	1. Chapter 1

God, Dutch was being an idiot! And Bill too! John as well--the whole lot of them, they were all just imbeciles!

Arthur couldn't seem to relax the grip he had on Soot's reigns as he rode, trying to focus on the pounding of hooves beneath him and the stretch in his thighs as he urged Soot into a gallop. They followed no specific path, charging through the open plains of the heartlands and scaring out the rabbits and birds as they went.

Arthur's teeth ground together, and he blew out an irritated breath and pulled the reigns back to bring Soot to a halt just before a little white fence. Soot threw his head back and snorted and pawed at the ground, shaking out his dark mane. His dappled brown coat was hot and dusty from the ride, Arthur patting his neck in reassurance as he glared at his surroundings. Fences. Posts. Train tracks. The land was entirely scarred by humans. People. People everywhere all the time. They were impossible to escape no matter how far it felt like he rode.

A house painted up all pretty with blue siding was just beyond the fence, a well-kept barn nearby. He could hear a bell banging round the throat of some animal, the plaintive cry of sheep telling him just _what_ kind of animal. It was a nice little homestead, but all Arthur felt towards it was anger and irritation; he never had such a thing in his life, and he never would. Not a chance in hell. God wouldn't let him be happy, and neither would Dutch for that matter.

He scoffed at the little cluster of buildings, tugging the reigns to turn Soot away. He didn't need this reminder that his life was and would always be devoid of such comforts.

"Hey!"

Arthur twisted in his saddle to look over his shoulder, squinting his eyes as he saw a man with a rifle in his hands.

"That's right! You just turn and get out of here!" the man hollered. He had a wide stance and broad shoulders, his face scruffy and his eyes hidden by a wide brimmed hat.

"Are you serious right now?" Arthur called back, the grimace on his lips turning into a much darker scowl.

"Yeah, I'm serious! Do what's smart and get your stupid self away from my ranch!"

Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he laughed through a disbelieving sigh and shook his head as he turned forward in his saddle again. He urged Soot a little ways forward, lifting a hand to give a seemingly good-natured wave back to the rancher. He slipped his hand into the breast of his coast, Soot ambling lazily away from the ranch as though his rider had not yet decided where to go. That wasn't the case. Arthur knew exactly where he meant to go now.

He went only a little ways from the ranch before pulling a delicate looking mask from within his coat. It was metal, thin and pounded into the shape of a skull without its lower jaw. He tied it around his head, covering his face from temple to cheek and ear to ear. Securing the mask, Arthur gave a sharp yank on Soot's reigns and pressed his knees into the side of the beast to inspire urgency. Soot was a fine animal, turning with ease until Arthur was charging towards the little white fence of the homestead. He pulled a coiled rope from his side, eager to feel how it burned through his fingers when thrown. There was a brief moment of feeling weightless and like he was flying as Soot's hooves left the ground and he cleared the fence, 

They came with such swiftness that the rancher had hardly anytime to react, a whoop of devilish delight escaping Arthur as he tossed the rope around the rancher just as the barrel of his rifle rose to try and ward him away.

He jerked the rope back, and in an instant the gun was tossed into the air as the rancher was ripped clean off his feet. His back slammed into the dirt, hat falling off upon impact. Soot hadn't even yet stopped running when Arthur swung himself from the saddle, laughter erupting from him as he pounced on the rancher. He was like a wounded animal, ready to be picked off by the next predator that found him... and Arthur was that predator.

"C'mere..." Arthur growled, wrestling the rancher down and jerking his wrists behind his back.

"You mother fucker! You just wait! I'll slit your fucking throat!" 

The threat made Arthur laugh, and he listened for that sweet little grunt of pain as he yanked the rope tight around the man's wrists.

"Aww, well look at'chu," Arthur cooed as he straightened up and stepped back. "You look just like a little present, all tied up prettily." He laughed again, a slight rasp in his voice from the exertion of physical energy. It felt good, even if his knees ached a bit from his sudden dismounting of Soot. He inhaled deeply and whistled low, eyes darting around the homestead and taking in more of it now than just its irritating existence. A cow pen. Some sheep. Nothing of much value to him. He shook his head and sighed before bending down to grab the rancher and sling him over his shoulder.

"Fuck! Put me down! I'll kill you!" the man snarled, and just for that Arthur intentionally ran the man's head into the door frame as he pushed his way into the ranch home.

"Oops," Arthur drawled, his tone smug as the rancher hissed from the injury. Arthur dropped him none too gracefully onto the hardwood floor of the entryway, kicking the door shut behind him and staring down at the man. "My bad. That must've hurt," he said, knowing full well the rancher could see the shit-eating grin he wore as he spoke.

"What are you... how dare you!" 

"Yeah, yep, I get that a lot," Arthur agreed, stretching his arms above his head and loosening himself up. He hadn't realized how stiff he'd gotten from riding for so long. He turned his back on the rancher, walking further into the house with an easy and relaxed gait. He reached for the first cupboard he found, yanking the doors open and scanning the shelf. A few crackers. Some poison. He moved on to the next cupboard, repeating his actions. 

"Stop it! Stop!" the rancher hollered, his boots scuffing the floor as he struggled.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder at the man and rolled his eyes. "Stop squirming around like a worm, or I'll step on you," he remarked, stooping down to pull open the doors of a cabinet beneath the sink. "Whooo... someone likes a good time," he said mockingly as he pulled several bottles of whiskey, tequila, and rum from beneath the counter. "Quite a little collection you've got going. Not much of a fan of saloons, huh? Too crowded? Yeah, I think so too."

"Stop! Please!" the rancher insisted. "Please! Please! I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything by it, any of it!"

Arthur chuckled, pacing the rest of the room in search of anything of value or interest. Unfortunately, it seemed the inside of the house was just as boring and useless to him as the rest of the ranch. He sighed and dropped into one of the mismatched chairs around a little cluttered kitchen table. He propped his boots up on the table, drawing his pistol from its holster and inspecting it. There was grime embedded in the engravings of its barrel, and Arthur picked at it a bit with his nails and made a discontented noise. There was still another room he hadn't checked yet, and it was probable that the rancher was hiding a few items of worth on himself.

He sighed, dropping his gun on the table and digging a cigarette out of his satchel. "Cute place you got," he commented to the rancher as he lit the cigarette. He took a long drag from it, chest swelling as he inhaled before exhaling its smoke slowly. 

"You... you're a real odd one, aren't you," the rancher said, nervousness coating the tone he tried to paint as friendly. "I don't got anything, mister. I swear."

"Oh, yeah?" Arthur grunted. He reached for his pistol, picking it up off the table and pointing it at the rancher. His cocked it slowly, making sure his prey could hear the sound of a bullet falling into the chamber while he aimed it at the man. "Guess I might as well kill you now then."

"No! No, please!"

Arthur snorted and lowered his gun. "You're just another all-talk no guts damn bastard with a gun," he growled, getting up and holstering his gun as he spoke. He approached the man where he lay on the floor, one shoe kicked off from his struggling and his coat torn from catching on a floorboard nail. It wasn't necessary in any way, but he drew back his boot before kicking the man hard in the side. It didn't do him much good, but it satisfied some of the anger he felt to feel that thud of impact and to hear the rancher inhale sharply and cry out in pain. Laughing, he crouched down to pinch the rancher's cheek. "Here comes try number two. Hope it goes well, for your sake," he said, winking at the man before pulling him off the floor and carrying him into the next room.

It was a little less cluttered than the other room, a little bed with a wrought iron frame tucked against one of the walls and a faded quilt hanging off it. He dropped the rancher on the bed, setting his sights on the dresser and vanity of the room and cracking his knuckles as he walked towards them. He started with the dresser, opening its doors to search the shelves; pomade, a pack of cigarettes, a lantern near empty of kerosene... garbage, again. He shook his head then jerked one of the drawers out of the dresser and threw it to the floor. And landed heavily, spilling the clothing it had contained before another drawer landed atop it. The final drawer was nothing but letters and a shitty little ledge detailing different trades the rancher had made. Arthur snarled as he dropped the drawer at his feet and kicked some of the clothing away from himself.

"You better be prayin' to god you left something good in this shit vanity," he hissed, glaring at the rancher while he approached the vanity. He caught sight of himself in its mirror, an angry man in a frightening mask with a scared shitless captive behind him. He didn't care for the image, and he slammed his fist into the mirror hard enough that it shattered. His hand stung a bit and he knew the glass had cut him, but it was easy enough to ignore and he shook out his hand and moved on to rifling through the vanity drawers.

Cologne, a comb, mustache wax and beard oil... a crumpled picture, a broken strand of beads, a small bible. Arthur slammed the final drawer shut as once again he came up with nothing of any interest to him. "I know you got a stash somewhere," he said, turning back towards the tied up rancher and tapping his foot impatiently. "Man like you doesn't live out here like this, in the middle of nowhere, only to go traipsing to the bank every few days. You got money around here somewhere..." he repeated, moving slowly and menacingly towards the bed.

"I-I don't! I swear! I really do have _nothing_! I only meant to protect the little I had left, please sir! Don't!"

"I don't believe that. Not yet," Arthur snarled, grabbing the man by the lapels of his coat and jerking him upright on the mattress. He ignored the rancher's panicked breathing as he dug through his pockets, checking each one and pulling out any items he felt within. A small knife and a banged up pocket-watch were all he came up with, and he tossed the rancher back down on the bed and scoffed in disgust. "I don't like havin' my time wasted..."

"I'm sorry! I really didn't mean anything by it!" his captive insisted. "I'm just a poor man trying to scrape by in this world, same as you!"

"That ain't good enough!" Arthur snapped. "I ain't satisfied yet, and you know what I think would satisfy me?" The question was rhetorical, Arthur fussing with the little knife he'd found in the man's coat and then putting it up against his throat. "Skinnin'."

The rancher swallowed thickly, trying his best to pull away from the sharp little blade against his throat. He was near crying, Arthur could see it in his eyes.

"I'm real good at it, too. What if I drug you outside and showed you? I bet I could have your whole ranch skinned by nightfall!" 

"N-no, please! It's my livelihood!"

"Oh it wouldn't matter for too long... I'm not too cruel. Afterwards, when the sun is gone, I'd take you into that sweet little barn of yours where I just know there's a nice meat hook. Yeah? Yeah... I'd string you up, hang you upside down just like ya do with the pigs... and put a nice line in your belly. Splat! Everything would tumble out... and you'd be worry free. Wouldn't that be nice? Don't you want to be worry free?" Arthur asked, moving the knife just a hair as he spoke so that sometimes it bit a little more into the man's throat.

There was a tremble in his lips now, and Arthur was just waiting for the tears to fall.

"Please... I'm sorry..." he pleaded.

Arthur shoved him back on the bed again, chucking the knife at the wall to his side and hearing it as the blade embedded itself deep in the wall. " _Where is it?_ " he demanded, glowering at the rancher as he stood over him.

"I have nothing! I... I drank it all away! I'm destitute!" And with that revelation, the rancher broke into a fit of sobs that wracked his entire body.

Arthur frowned. It wasn't nearly as entertaining as he'd hoped it would be to see the man cry. He scoffed and left the room, returning to the kitchen to grab one of the whiskey bottles he'd found earlier stashed beneath the sink. He could still hear the rancher sobbing in the next room over, the thin walls making it easy enough. He drank deeply from the whiskey bottle, swallowing it quickly so he tasted less of it before he let out a long sigh. He was still angry... still mad at the other gang members for all the shit that had been going on. Looking around the small room he tried to envision himself living such a life... out in the middle of nowhere, just him and some animals that he could sell or eat. No real concerns. No tricks, no robberies, no kidnappings. That'd be nice.

"H-hello? ... Are you still there?" 

Arthur made a face. That was right; he currently had someone tied up even as he tried to picture a life where that wasn't what he did. 

"Sir?" the man called, followed by the sound of the bed creaking as the man struggled on it. Arthur crept towards the doorway, hiding around its edge and listening to the rancher try to escape his bindings with an occasional hiccup escaping him from his bout of crying. There was more shuffling and springs squeaking, and then an exasperated sigh followed by a pitiful moan, and then what sounded like an extra violent and determined struggle. There was a thud as something hit the wall, and then a loud and pained hiss. Arthur had to suppress an amused chuckle, knowing the rancher had smacked his head against the wall by accident.

He listened to him fight a little bit longer before he finally rounded the doorway, letting the heels of his boots hit the floor heavily just so he could watch the rancher freeze once he realized he was not alone.

"Oh... I thought you'd..."

"Left'cha for dead?" Arthur suggested, a smug grin on his lips as he sidled into the room and plopped himself down on the edge of the bed beside the trussed up rancher. "Wouldn't that be somethin'?" He turned, studying the man's face for a moment as he took another deep drink of the whiskey. He was younger than Arthur had originally thought, eyes still fresh and youthful despite the red around them. It was the beard that gave the man his age, but there was a soft jaw beneath it and Arthur knew he'd call the man a boy if he were to be clean shaven. Taking another drink, he smacked his lips and sighed. "What's your name?"

There was a moment of hesitation from the rancher, the poor fool uncertain as to whether he ought to give his name to the man who had attacked him, tied him up, kicked him, and then robbed him. "Marvin..." he offered at last, "Marvin Holcomb."


	2. Chapter 2

"Why are you doing this to me!?" Marvin blurted out as he was shoved back into the bedroom, Arthur shuffling him along and pushing him so that he stumbled before teetering forward and falling onto the bed. He barely managed to twist himself so that his shoulder made impact with the hard mattress rather than his face, and he scowled at Arthur. 

Arthur gave his usual disinterested shrug, knowing he didn't really have any good reason for any of this; Marvin was just the unlucky bastard who had been stupid enough to open his mouth when Arthur was already pissed off as it were. "Amusement," he offered as he reclined against a nearby wall and looked at Marvin's irritated face. His cheeks were flushed. They'd been outside briefly as Marvin had been begging Arthur to let him relieve himself, and Arthur wasn't about to watch no grown man piss himself and the bed. 

It was chilly out, the early morning air bringing a rouge to their cheeks in a matter of seconds and the dew covered grass dampening their boots. There was a sort of peace to standing on the porch listening to the birds cry and the sheep make their plaintive cries from their enclosure nearby. Arthur had even taken some time to toss a few leafs of hay into their pen. The dumb animals had rushed towards the fresh hay, but they'd scattered when Arthur tried to pat one of them on the head. He'd rolled his eyes but secretly enjoyed watching them. He could see the appeal of living like this... alone with only some animals to tend to. But... he had his gang, and he'd need to be getting back to them sooner or later.

Marvin was struggling on the bed, trying to get himself off his shoulder and into a more dignified position of sorts. Arthur crossed his arms and watched him struggle until Marvin had managed to get himself on his backside after quite a bit of wiggling. The man was a mess, one sock dirty with mud from their little trip out-of-doors and his hair mussed up from being tossed around like a sack of potatoes. "You're a sick bastard..." Marvin spat, noticing how Arthur was watching him. 

Arthur shrugged again. "And you're a goddamn idiot," he retorted. "None of this would be happenin' if you hadn't run your fat mouth at me."

"I can say whatever I please! It's a free country!" Marvin protested. He was trying to jerk himself into an upright position but it wasn't going well.

"Free my ass," Arthur scoffed, straightening up to duck out of the room. When he returned he held a pitcher and a cloth, both of which he set down on the vanity near the bed before reaching towards Marvin.

Marvin flinched in return, attempting to kick his bound legs at Arthur to ward him away again. "Get the fuck away from me," he spat, gasping when Arthur slapped him upside the head and hauled him from the bed anyways. If it weren't for Arthur's strong grip on him keeping him upright, he would've found himself engaged in a passionate make-out session with the floor. 

"Just sit down and shut up," Arthur grumbled. "Your mouth ain't caused you nothin' but trouble. Damn! Though you'd have figured that out by now!" He forced Marvin into the chair, pushing it before the broken vanity mirror so that Marvin could see himself in its shattered glass with Arthur standing just behind him. Marvin went still as he saw Arthur pull a long knife from his person in the mirror, the blood draining from his face.

"You're sick... you're a goddamn lunatic," he mumbled, eyes locked on the tarnished mirror and the things he could see in it. Arthur's hands reached around him to dip the cloth into the pitcher, and Marvin inhaled sharply when Arthur applied the damp rag to his jaw. Arthur could see how Marvin's brow furrowed in confusion and terror at the gesture, his eyes determinedly following the knife in Arthur's hand.

And then Arthur was pressing it to his throat, and giving it only the slightest tilt against his skin. "Don't move," Arthur warned, Marvin emitting something of a whine at the order with a blade to his throat. The blade scraped along his skin, but there was no sting and there was no blood. Arthur dipped his knife in the pitcher, shaking it off and repeating the gesture. He cut back Marvin's overgrown beard, exposing the tender skin beneath as his blade glided along Marvin's jaw. His blade traced Marvin's jaw, slipping over his cheeks and shaving him clean as Marvin tried to stay still and say nothing.

But Arthur could see the protests on his lips, jaw set firm as he bit back whatever remarks waited on his tongue. He was furious and scared, confused and startled. Arthur didn't know why he decided to do this. Perhaps it was just seeing Marvin looking like such a mess on the bed. Maybe it was for his own amusement, or just another way to kill some time. He didn't want to go back to the gang yet, and now he had this person this _plaything_ to entertain him. Marvin was turning into a fine excuse. He couldn't just _leave_. Not without disposing of Marvin, right?

Seeing Marvin's clean shaven face in the mirror, Arthur felt a little resentful of such a thought.

His fingers combed through Marvin's hair. it was soft and a little long... good for tangling fingers in... a small surge of possessiveness ran through him. 

Marvin squirmed in the chair, trying to pull away from Arthur's touch. He was crying, Arthur noticed, small tears beading in the corners of his eyes and running down his freshly shaved cheeks when they got too large. Arthur didn't know what made him do it, but he bent towards the man and pressed his lip to one of those tear dampened cheeks. The gesture made Marvin jolt in surprise, and his lower lip trembled as he turned his head towards Arthur.

For a moment, Arthur felt exposed. Like he wasn't wearing his mask anymore. Marvin's eyes were strikingly green this close, and Arthur found himself stepping back quickly and leaving the room with Marvin still sitting before the vanity, arms uncomfortably bound behind his back. 

~*~

Arthur had thought about leaving. Just abandoning the ranch and leaving Marvin to die or, somehow, maybe get himself free. Yeah right. Like that would happen. Arthur wasn't an idiot when it came to tying people up... the only people who made it out alive of his bindings were ones he cut loose himself _or_ , if he was feeling _nice_ , left where others might find them and help them. What an idea, counting on the kindness of others.

Leaning against the porch railing with a cigarette pinched between his fingers, Arthur laughed in derision. He held his skull mask in his hands, fussing with its ties and running his thumbs over the mask's sculpted brow and cheekbones. He sniffed and rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead. He'd taken some time to wash his face free of the sweat and grime trapped beneath the mask, but it was getting late and Marvin was still sitting at that goddamn vanity. Arthur had left him like that for a good few hours, hearing and ignoring his cries. Marvin had shouted to see if he was still there, and had yelled to be released, and had cried desperately for Arthur to come back and not leave him like this. The guy probably thought Arthur really had abandoned him by now.

Arthur sighed and put his mask back on, its weight a comfort to him. Arthur was hidden... this skull faced man was in charge now and none of this mattered. Whatever he did now meant nothing, because once the mask was off that person was gone and didn't exist anymore. He loved his mask much more than the typical bandannas the gang wore during robberies and heists and hold-ups. The mask made him someone else. Someone bad but free... someone without the same restrictions as the man that was Arthur Morgan.

Arthur took a few final drags of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and grinding it beneath the toe of his boot. The house was quiet as he went back inside, his steps slow and cautious as he made his way into the bedroom. Marvin had fallen asleep, slumping forward against the vanity table. It was a light sleep and evidently not a comfortable one. Not with the way Marvin was slouched over, temple barely managing to reach the table enough for it to support him. Arthur rubbed his jaw and approached the man, reaching for him and pulling him from the chair like he was a doll.

Marvin roused easily, though he didn't struggle nearly as much as Arthur had expected. He was too tired; he'd barely gotten any sleep the night before, all trussed up with Arthur sleeping in the corner.

Now Arthur was moving him again, carrying him back to the bed and setting him down on it before settling in beside him. Arthur brushed his thumb over Marvin's newly shaved cheek, feeling the grain and scratch of the stubble against his skin. Marvin made a light noise of discontent, Arthur ignoring it and pressing a little closer to the bound man. 

"Handsome under all that scruff..." he muttered, pressing his face into the crook of Marvin's neck and feeling his own warm breath on the skin there. He didn't know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all, but he needed _something_. Something to distract him from the anger and the pain. Something to take his mind off all the shit Micah had pulled, and all the times Dutch had dismissed his concerns... all of it. He just wanted to forget all of it for a bit, and he'd already tried robbing and threatening Marvin to forget for a little while. Now he wanted to try this. Hell, if this didn't work--didn't do anything for him--then he could always just find a creative way to kill the man. That would keep his mind busy for a bit, right?

Marvin shuddered as Arthur's tongue traced the curvature of his ear, lips pressing to skin and teeth nibbling against his throat with a surprising amount of tenderness. There were a few times he started when Arthur bit him just a little harder, but he stayed quiet like he was trying to pretend he was still asleep. Like he thought Arthur hadn't noticed the shallowness of his breaths, the tension in his chest... the way he swallowed thickly as Arthur drug his tongue down a throat that tasted like the salt of sweat. Arthur's hand worked beneath his head, fingers threading through his hair and pulling him near as he covered Marvin's mouth with his own. Lips, dry and cracked like the dirt in a drought... Arthur was surprised at how soft they still felt. Maybe it was his own chapped lips that made Marvin's seem softer than they really were. Maybe it was just how long it'd been since he'd kissed anyone....

It didn't matter. That same sort of greed that drove him, drove all men it seemed, was welling up inside him and insisting he take more from this man. More than his money or his weapons. More than his livelihood... his life later, perhaps, but now... now he just wanted to have Marvin too, or whatever Marvin had to offer. Maybe Marvin was really the only thing worth shit to him on this entire goddamn ranch.

He hooked a leg over Marvin, trapping him close and pressing himself against the length of Marvin's torso. He was getting hot beneath the collar, and stiff below the belt. Slowly he moved a hand and pressed it between Marvin's legs, this time Marvin crying into his mouth in alarm from Arthur's touch. Arthur pulled out of the kiss but left his hand cupping Marvin, a shit-eating grin spreading over his face as he noted just how tight Marvin's jeans were beneath his hand. 

"Stop. Don't, please," Marvin gasped, slightly winded from how long Arthur had had him pinned in an unwanted kiss.

"That don't sound like you really mean it," Arthur replied, pressing his hand a little harder to Marvin's crotch and rubbing him through the jeans. 

Marvin winced in return, a soft breath escaping him when Arthur stroked him a little more. "D-don't!" he insisted, but his knees bent slightly as his body involuntarily tried to give Arthur more access. Arthur chuckled, finding Marvin's protests but uncooperative body to be a funny little contradiction. Betrayal... Arthur knew what it was like to be betrayed, but he wondered just how sharp the contrast was for Marvin when it was his own body doing the betraying.

Arthur kissed him again, hand deftly undoing the buttons of Marvin's jeans. Marvin squirmed against him, but his resistance only made it sweeter for Arthur. He snaked a hand beneath Marvin's jeans, catching Marvin's fattened cock in his hand and gripping it tightly. Marvin moaned into his mouth, a loud and wet moan as his hips tried desperately to push himself further into Arthur's hand. Arthur could feel the man shaking in his arms, terror pulsing through him as Arthur continued to surprise him with new forms of torment. Torment that was almost... enjoyable. He squeaked a bit in surprise when Arthur let go of him, Arthur rolling him onto his side and draping the length of his own frame against Marvin's backside.

He fussed with Marvin's pants, pushing them down until he had Marvin's ass exposed to him. He gleefully dug his fingers into the meat of it, mouth running down the back of Marvin's neck while Marvin whimpered and tensed. He was so _so_ tense, Arthur could feel it in his ass... he laughed, unable to resist smacking that ass hard enough to feel the sting of it in his own palm. Marvin yelped in return, his feet kicking at the blankets as he tried to move away. There was nowhere to go. Arthur had him trapped, laying on the bed with a wall to his face and Arthur guarding his backside.

"...'s the matter?" Arthur cooed in Marvin's ear, hands finding Marvin's tied behind his back and playing with the fingers that were so tightly balled into fists there.

"I don't-... I'm not-!" Marvin stammered, grunting when Arthur bit his ear.

Arthur managed to work Marvin's fingers out of their fists while also freeing himself from his own jeans. His cock was beginning to ache from being so hard and getting no attention, and he slid the full length of himself into Marvin's hands. Just like he thought, Marvin froze as he tried to process what it was that rested in his hands... soft skin, warm and thick... then he curled his fingers around Arthur's dick and tried to squeeze as hard as he could. The only thing that stopped Arthur from belting out a laugh at all of it was that Marvin's fingers coiled so tightly around his cock felt so _good_. He knew what Marvin was trying to do; he was trying to hurt him! But, he just couldn't. Not at that angle, and not all tied up like he was.

Reaching around Marvin, Arthur took Marvin's own blood fattened dick in his hands and ran his fingers down it roughly. Marvin groaned and shuddered, swallowing loudly as Arthur did it again and then again. He kissed the back of Marvin's neck, following the hair line and teasing Marvin's ears with his tongue all while stroking and petting Marvin heavily. Marvin didn't do much beside offer the occasional cry, but his tight grip on Arthur's own cock was all Arthur really needed.

Arthur moved against Marvin's backside, hips thrusting slowly into Marvin's hands at the same pace his hands set around Marvin's dick. He held Marvin close to him, his chest pressed to Marvin's backside. He could feel Marvin's heart beating and feel it too, loud rhythmic thuds of fear and strain. He bit Marvin's neck, hard enough this time to bruise. He wanted to mark the rancher. He wanted to own him in some way.

When did these feelings of possession start? Probably the moment he decided to shave Marvin's face... no, it had to have been even before that. Something about seeing Marvin so scruffy and haggard had bothered him. Marvin was in his _care_. He couldn't let someone in his care look _un-cared_ for. It wasn't decent.

Marvin started cussing between his groans, soft utterances where he called Arthur a bastard and rattled off as many swear words as he could string together in a single breath. Arthur took it all as encouragement, continuing to grind against Marvin's backside and rub his length through Marvin's fingers while still toying with Marvin's cock. Marvin pushed back against him suddenly, releasing a long and shaky exhale as he did. Arthur felt Marvin's hot and slippery release running down his hand then, and he groaned as he too came on Marvin's hands. It felt good... especially to just lay there after and listen to his ragged breathing against Marvin's own soft gasps, like he was somehow choking on the air he desperately needed.

Arthur rolled over, the bed creaking beneath his weight as he got up and crossed the room. He grabbed the rag from earlier, dipping it in the remaining water of the pitcher and using it to wipe off his hands. He soaked it again before returning to the bed, rubbing the damp cloth over Marvin's softening cock. He crawled back into bed behind Marvin, carefully running the cloth down each of Marvin's fingers to clear away any of his own seed before tossing the rag to the floor and settling in next to Marvin.

Marvin didn't say anything, and Arthur was grateful. He was tired and wasn't in the mood to hear any more empty threats and vows of hatred tonight. He just wanted to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Marvin gasped loudly, shaking as Arthur stepped away from him and grabbing onto the nearest thing he could for support. He latched onto one of the fence posts, coughing as he blinked water out of his eyes and tried to shake some of it from his hair. "You asshole!" he snapped, glaring at Arthur who only smiled smugly in return.

Arthur had an empty bucket in his hands after just having finished dousing Marvin with water to get him cleaned up a bit. "What? I'm only helping," Arthur replied, grinning before tossing a rag at Marvin. Marvin snatched it from the air and scowled at him as he wiped himself down. 

"It's fucking _cold_ ," Marvin growled, chucking the soiled cloth back at Arthur when he was done and crossing his arms. He wasn't happy, but Arthur didn't care how he felt so long as he behaved himself. This was a lot of trust, he'd told Marvin, to cut off the bindings and let him roam about freely. Arthur still hovered, though, watching him like a hawk. He'd hidden all of Marvin's guns and knives away just to be on the safe side. His own pistol was, as always, holstered to his hip and ready if he felt Marvin was getting out of line. 

Marvin's hands rubbed over his face, fingers feeling where Arthur had cut back his beard. Arthur just watched, enjoying the view of Marvin's fully exposed and damp skin and how it looked when he ran his fingers through his wet hair. He was glad he hadn't killed Marvin straightaway, even if he had originally wanted to strangle him until he choked out his last breath and his neck turned black and blue with bruising from Arthur's fingers squeezing around it....

"What's your problem? Stop gawking," Marvin huffed, shoving past Arthur to go back in and get some fresh clothes.

Arthur caught him as he passed, his knife unsheathed in an instant and pressed to Marvin's throat as he held him from behind. His thumb pressed against Marvin's skin, feeling him swallow hard. "Hey now... be nice," Arthur warned, his voice a quiet rumble in Marvin's ear. He let him go, shoving him forward hard enough that the man stumbled a bit before catching his balance. Marvin stopped, like he might turn around and confront Arthur, but then he kept walking and Arthur followed after him.

~*~

Arthur had gone out and shot a rabbit earlier in the day before he'd even thought about letting Marvin free of his bindings. Now they sat at Marvin's table and ate, Marvin looking around the small room and scowling at the mess Arthur had made when he'd rummaged through all of Marvin's belongings.

"I told you I didn't have shit," he muttered while he ate. "Got this whole place all fucked up...."

"You complain more than a housewife," Arthur replied. He wasn't as hungry as Marvin. Of course he wasn't... he hadn't been tied up for damn near three days. "Put a brat in your arms and I might think you really are one."

"I've got a right to complain!" Marvin snapped, and Arthur's eyes went to the fork in Marvin's hand like it might become a weapon if Marvin was pissed enough. "You barge onto my land, knock me off my feet and take over my fuckin' house--don't tell me I'm not allowed to be mad!"

Arthur's brow furrowed at the list of offenses, noting that Marvin hadn't said anything about what Arthur had done the night before. Then he laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'm a shithead," he agreed, leaning back in his chair and pushing the remains of his own plate towards Marvin. "Here. I ain't gonna eat it."

Marvin's eyes flicked between the food and Arthur, his expression dubious before he pulled the plate a little nearer. He was quick about it, as though he expected Arthur to snatch it away. Fair enough, Arthur might've just for a laugh.

"So... how're you gonna do it?" Marvin asked when a considerable silence had entered the room, the only sound the occasional creaks of the house and the scrapes of his fork against his plate. "When you go?" he furthered, not looking at Arthur when he spoke.

"Do what?"

"You know... kill me," Marvin answered, this time his green eyes glancing towards Arthur.

"Oh, that," Arthur laughed, hooking his hands behind his head and settling into his chair a little further. "I dunno. Maybe something quick, like a bullet in the brain... then feed ya to the pigs. Or, maybe I'll savor it... string you up by your ankles on that big ol' tree outside and watch the blood rush to your head then gut you like an animal. Or, maybe," he said, sitting up suddenly and leaning over the table to grin at Marvin, "Maybe I just won't."

The laugh that erupted from Marvin startled Arthur, and he straightened up before reclining back in his chair again. He didn't think he'd hear Marvin laugh in his lifetime.

"What's so funny about that?" Arthur asked, drumming his fingers on the table and watching Marvin's face closely.

Marvin waved a hand at him and shook his head. "Oh please. You ain't gonna let me live. Not after all this shit."

"I might," Arthur protested. "S'not like I've got a reason to kill you; you ain't seen my face."

Marvin smiled grimly. "I'm not gonna get my hopes up."

Arthur didn't try to convince him, instead letting the silence settle in and just watching Marvin. He watched Marvin finish eating, and watched him clear the table. Marvin had been tied up for the better part of three days, and now he was desperate to move around; he did the dishes and wiped down the table and the counters, and then he began picking up all the things Arthur had thrown about and started putting them back in their respective places. Arthur just sat and watched, saying nothing as he did. Marvin lit a lantern when it began to get dark, but he kept cleaning. Arthur knew he was also being watched, even as Marvin moved around the room and straightened things out until it was tidier than before.

Whether it was just Marvin keeping an eye on him out of fear, or perhaps looking for a chance to kill Arthur himself, it didn't matter. Arthur was ready whatever might come. Marvin seemed smart enough though. He wouldn't be an idiot to try and attack Arthur now.

Marvin finished his cleaning and leaned against a counter, one of his heels tapping against it as he blew out a breath and looked around the room. "So..." he said slowly, Arthur barely turning his head to look at him. He opened and shut his mouth again several times under Arthur's gaze, fingers curling around the counter edge. "Um... what's your name anyways?"

Arthur snorted at the question. "Arthur," he answered. He didn't feel the need to give a fake name, and he rarely did. Arthur was common enough, and he wouldn't forget it.

"Arthur..." Marvin repeated. He looked towards the bedroom door, though he stayed where was with his foot tapping anxiously.

"'s the matter wit'chu?" Arthur asked, crossing his arms and shifting in his chair. 

Marvin glanced out the window, chewing on his lip as he thought. "Nothin'. I'm just... Jesus, fuck me... I gotta take a shit, okay?"

Arthur barked out a laugh at Marvin's confession, his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up. "What, you askin' for permission or somethin'?"

"Fuck you," Marvin retorted, "I'm tryin' not to get shot so you can make good on that offer to, yanno, maybe _not_ kill me." 

Arthur couldn't stop himself from chuckling as he sidled up to Marvin. He wasn't much taller than Marvin, but it was just enough to make Marvin cower a bit when Arthur tilted his head just so while looking at him. "Fine... I'll give ya ten minutes. If you ain't back by then I promise... I'll hunt you down and I _will_ find you," he threatened as he drew a pocket-watch from within the breast of his waistcoat and checked its time. 

He could hear Marvin's teeth grinding together when he set his jaw and scowled at Arthur, but he pushed away from the counter and slammed the door on his way outside. Arthur watched him from the window, a dark shadow crossing the yard to the outhouse and slamming that door behind him as well. He laughed softly. He really was starting to feel a bit better from picking on Marvin, even if he wasn't getting anything out of it other than amusement. Still, he'd need to return to the gang soon. Three days... how much longer could he stay away before they started looking for him? What if they found him? What if they found _this_?

MIcah would kill Marvin on the spot. He just knew it. The thought made the blood in his veins run hot; Marvin was his now, and no one was going to kill him. No one that wasn't Arthur, anyways.

He looked at the watch, taking account of the time that had passed, then back to the outhouse. Four minutes... five minutes... seven minutes... the door hadn't opened yet. Briefly Arthur wondered if Marvin had some sort of secret escape hatch through the outhouse. It was an absurd idea, and he scoffed out loud at the stupidity of his own thoughts. Then the door swung open, and Marvin's shadowy figure was walking back towards the house. He paused in his steps, head turning from left to right as he possibly contemplated making a run for it. But, he thought better of it and resumed trudging his way towards the house. 

_Good_ , Arthur thought.

~*~

Marvin was scratching him, but he didn't really mind. His shirt would hide the marks raked by Marvin's nails down his chest later. Right now the burn of it was enjoyable, that mingle of pleasure and pain. He had the man pinned beneath him, lips locked while Marvin struggled under him.

They'd gone into the room under the pretense of sleeping, but the moment Arthur had shut the door behind him he just couldn't stop himself from grabbing Marvin and wrestling him towards the bed. Marvin had thrashed like an alligator, trying to throw Arthur off. His struggling was encouraging, Arthur laughing in his face and throwing him down on the mattress before climbing on top of him. Marvin grunted as Arthur kissed him roughly, his knee jerking beneath Arthur and nearly managing to get Arthur in the gut. Arthur pressed his own knee between Marvin's thighs, using it to push his legs apart insistently. Marvin's hands left his chest, moving up his shoulders and throat before they were scrabbling at and trying to catch hold of the mask that covered Arthur's face.

Arthur jerked back and smacked Marvin's hands away before slapping him hard across the face, Marvin gasping as Arthur growled at him. " _Don't try that again_." His fingers curled tightly around Marvin's wrists, locking them down against the mattress as he sucked against Marvin's throat until the vessels beneath the skin broke and the blood began to pool. Marvin squirmed against him, whining and breathing loudly. He'd put much too much energy into trying to fight Arthur off, and now he was steadily weakening under Arthur and becoming limp in defeat.

Well, _almost_ limp. Arthur's thigh pressed against Marvin's groin, feeling the heat there while a grin spread over his face and he laughed against Marvin's throat. "You like this... you get off on it," he rasped, his own voice hoarse from his actions. 

"No!" Marvin protested quickly, trying to jerk his wrists free from Arthur's grasp as he did.

Arthur tightened his grip and pushed Marvin's hands down harder into the mattress. "Your cock says otherwise," he pointed out, purposefully rubbing his leg against Marvin's jeans and his hard cock beneath.

Marvin opened his mouth to deny it again, instead a moan escaping him from Arthur's actions. "S-stop it!" he insisted.

"Shuddup," Arthur muttered, covering Marvin's mouth with his own to silence him. He pushed Marvin's hands above his head, trapping them both under one of his palms while his free hand slipped lower down Marvin's torso and worked its way beneath his belt-line. His tongue pushed past Marvin's teeth, his mouth swallowing Marvin's complaints as he kissed him and threaded his fingers through the thick hair at the base of Marvin's dick. He didn't stop, playing with him and touching him all while feeling the fight continue to steadily evaporate from Marvin. He was giving in, being broken down and learning it was easier to just comply and let Arthur do whatever he wanted. Arthur waited until he was sufficiently loose before slowly releasing Marvin's wrists and biting at his throat lightly. 

He then worked his way downwards, eyes watching Marvin's face as he moved lower and undid Marvin's pants. He pulled Marvin's cock free from his pants, gripping it lightly in his hand and stroking it slowly. Marvin shuddered in return, his own eyes locked on Arthur and unable to look away. He inhaled sharply when Arthur took him in his mouth, tongue flattening against his cock and dragging along his entire length as Arthur began to suck him off. His hands fell back to his sides, fingers digging into the bedding as he made some sort of strangled noise. Arthur normally would've laughed, but it was kind of cute. He kept going, head dipping low as he took Marvin in from tip to base with Marvin's dick bumping a little uncomfortably against the back of his throat. It was fine though, he could handle it. He just wanted to watch Marvin lose all his resolve... watch him give up and give in. He wanted to get Marvin to a place where he was desperate for this!

Arthur tensed when Marvin grabbed his head, and he struggled not to smile with his mouth full of cock when Marvin only held his head in place like he was afraid Arthur might stop. He wasn't going to stop... there was still so much more to be done. Arthur let Marvin have this, giving him that small slice of control over any of the things that had been happening to him. If it was this... that was fine. He'd let Marvin have this.

"Oh... _god_ ," Marvin groaned, his fingers tangling in Arthur's hair.

Arthur kept watching him, enjoying how he could see how flushed Marvin's face had become even in the dark. He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling heavily as Arthur sucked his cock. There was a flood of warmth in his mouth, thick and salty, when Marvin couldn't stop himself any longer and his hips bucked into Arthur's mouth. Arthur swallowed most of it, letting Marvin fall from his mouth before spitting what was left on the floor and running the back of his arm over his mouth. 

Marvin exhaled shakily, his head dropping back on the pillow as he tried to regain his composure. No time for that though, Arthur undoing his own pants and kicking them off onto the floor before moving himself up the bed to straddle Marvin's head. Marvin's eyes went wide as looked at Arthur's own length before his face, Arthur looking down at him expectantly.

"N... no," he said softly, Arthur raising an eyebrow at the word.

"No?" Arthur repeated back in question. "Marv... don't be silly, that's not very fair. Makin' me do all the work, gettin' yer own needs tended to and ignorin' mine... not very polite."

Marvin frowned at his words, looking between Arthur's face and his hard and waiting cock. "No," he said a little more firmly. "No. I'm not gonna. This is perverse!"

A dark surge of anger struck Arthur. It happened so quick, his hands closing around Marvin's throat and his thumbs pushing into either side of his larynx and threatening to strangle him. "You're testing my patience, Marvin," Arthur snarled, Marvin's hands clawing at his arms as he struggled to breathe.

He choked out some sort of response, coughing loudly when Arthur let go of his neck and let him breathe again. "I hate you," he croaked when he managed to catch his breath enough.

"I don't really care," Arthur retorted. "Now, c'mon."

Marvin's expression was dark as he glared at Arthur, but he did as he was told and hesitantly opened his mouth and let Arthur enter. Arthur let out a guttural groan at the sensation, Marvin's mouth warm and soft around his cock. 

"Yeah..." he sighed, thrusting lightly into Marvin's mouth. Marvin didn't do much, laying there and trying to accommodate Arthur while tears beaded in the corners of his eyes every time Arthur plunged a little too deep. It didn't take long for Arthur to cum, Marvin coughing and sputtering and spitting out his seed when he did. Arthur laughed, amused by just how dramatic Marvin was being about it. He got off of Marvin and rolled over next to him, his arms wrapping around Marvin to cradle him and enjoy the warmth of his body.

"Remember... behave and you just might get out of this alive," Arthur reminded him. "I don't wanna kill you, so just lay there and keep quiet."

Marvin didn't answer him, his entire frame tense against Arthur. Arthur could hear and feel him trembling as he cried quietly beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I was only going to do three chapters but I need to do one more. Maybe two.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur had left long before the sun rose, Marvin stirring in his sleep when he got up but only rolling over. Arthur wished he could've stayed only to hide somewhere on the ranch and watch Marvin. He wanted to see how long it took before Marvin would dare to leave his room or his house even to just take a piss. Arthur laughed at the thought of Marvin timidly looking out the doorway and fearing taking a single step without Arthur there to give him permission.

But, he couldn't stay. He needed to go back, so back he had gone. 

Back to watching everyone's hopes crumble around him, back to stupid plans and poor decisions with narrow escapes. Back to listening to Dutch as his sanity seemed to slip further and further, all while being spurred on by Micah. Why did no one listen to him about Micah!? He hated the bastard, and nothing ever went right when Micah was involved... but Dutch wouldn't listen to him. No one would. Not even when Micah walked them into a trap for the third fucking time. 

Arthur tried to simply disengage. He tried to ignore it all and just do what was needed; hunt some game, feed the horses, talk to the others in the camp who also were feeling low. Sadie seemed more stir-crazy every single day, and Arthur didn't blame her.

But, she didn't have the same freedoms as him. No one was going to let her leave the camp on her own to blow off steam. The Van der Linde gang, nicest gang around. Ha! It was horseshit. They were the same as any other group of idiots out there--taking orders from one crazy man and doing all his dirty work and dying for his sins.

It didn't take long for the anger and aggression to start building inside him again, every greasy grin Micah gave him and every dismissal of his thoughts from Dutch stoking the fury that was burning within him. Arthur waited, biding his time until he could get away for a bit again.

The chance came on a rainy day when the river swelled and the camp was suddenly scrambling to move further from the bank to save their belongings. Arthur helped get his own cart moved along with all the ammo, but not everyone was lucky enough to avoid their belongings getting wet. Some things were destroyed by the water, though the biggest argument was over that blasted gramophone. Arthur couldn't prove it, and he wouldn't have tried to if asked, but he was pretty sure he saw Mrs. Grimshaw tip that thing over in the rush to get things moved just so she wouldn't have to hear Molly's infernal music echoing through the camp day in and day out any longer. 

He couldn't blame her. He'd thought about doing it himself before.

Still, Arthur promised Molly he'd look for a new one for her. That and some new books and playing cards, and a new journal for himself too. He also needed some new clothing... all their running had done a good deal of damage to his wardrobe and it'd been a long while since he'd had good riding boots. Soot was impatient and wanting to move. The feeling was mutual, and he took his horse out as soon as everyone had gotten resettled with a promise to be back in no more than a week or two tops. It would give him enough time to find the things the other gang members wanted as well as the time he needed to himself.

~*~

He only meant to spend as little time as possible in Saint Denis, picking up the items he'd promised the others and re-outfitting himself. He'd even taken the time to have a gun of his engraved and carved until it felt like he had a whole new gun. But, that had only taken up three days and he wasn't ready to head back yet. He still had time, but he couldn't think of anywhere else to go so he sighed and decided to just leave his room and visit the saloon downstairs. He tried to fit in a little better while in Saint Denis this time, since apparently his usual jeans and sweat stained shirt simply were not the fashion in these parts.

Instead he donned some of the new clothing he'd gotten, stopping to observe himself in the mirror of his room. Blue was a good color on him, Tilly and Karen were always saying so. He couldn't see it, but he wore a blue paisley vest anyways and combed his hair back. He'd gotten it cut the day before, and the man in the mirror looked a good deal cleaner than usual. He paused to pat a bit of cologne onto his jaw before leaving the room, new spurs on polished black boots jingling as he descended the stairs to the saloon. He felt like a new man in all this fine get-up, and that's all he wanted. Just a moment of freedom from being criminal and an outlaw. Dressed like this, he could get behind some of Trelawney's constant gibberings about how clothing could make the man and the finer things in life and all that other bullshit. Hell, he even thought he might like something nicer than whiskey tonight.

He wondered if the other bar patrons noticed the bounce in his step as he approached the counter, settling in against it and waving the bartender over. He accidentally bumped into the man next to him, his eyes flicking towards the gentleman and an apology on his lips. The apology fell from his tongue without ever being given when he recognized the face of the man he'd unintentionally jostled, the man turning to glare at him.

"Sorry, friend," Arthur said quickly if a little delayed. "Didn't see you there." He tried to keep his face straight, but he felt entirely exposed... no mask now. No mask to hide him from the eyes of Marvin Holcomb.

Would he recognize him? Arthur ran his tongue over his chapped lips and cleared his throat. 

"Uh... say, what's good here?" he asked, Marvin shrugging and making a face at him. He had his hands cupped around a near empty shot glass, and his beard had started to grow back in. It wasn't nearly as grizzled as it had been the first time Arthur had met him, though. He seemed to be keeping it trimmed down and combed--a considerably better look for him in Arthur's opinion. "Barkeep! I'll have what he's havin'," Arthur called, also gesturing for the bartender to refill Marvin's glass while at it. 

The small gesture made Marvin look towards him briefly, but he simply picked up his newly filled glass and downed it before slamming it on the counter. If he recognized Arthur, he wasn't telling. Arthur followed his example and gulped back the contents of his own shot glass, the taste of tequila tingling against his lips and his tongue curling from its bitterness. He shook his head and cleared his throat, waving for another round.

Marvin stared at the glass that had now been refilled twice on another man's dime before turning towards Arthur and tapping his hand on the counter lightly. "Do you want something?" he asked, eyes dark and voice low as he spoke to Arthur.

Arthur shook his head. "No. No, nothing at all. Just... saw an empty glass, thought I'd fix it," he replied. "What's your name?"

"What's it to ya?" Marvin retorted, swallowing down another glass of tequila and pushing the empty glass towards the bartender. The bartender glanced towards Arthur, looking for any sign he should refill it again and doing so when Arthur nodded. 

"I'm, uh, new in town. Just tryin' to be friendly s'all," he replied.

Marvin didn't look at him this time, pinching the shot glass between his fingers and staring at it like it had somehow done him wrong. 

"You don't hafta give me your name-"

"Wasn't gonna," Marvin said shortly, cutting Arthur off as he spoke.

Arthur's lips puckered into a sour grimace, his teeth pinching the skin of cheek inside his mouth. His mask... he wanted his mask to be on. The masked man would have hit Marvin for his lack of politeness. Arthur Morgan had to behave though, in front of all these drunk bar-goers and poker players and painted up whores. He spun his own glass between his fingers on the counter top, sniffing deeply before he spoke. "S'fine. I'll just call ya friend," he replied.

Marvin wasn't looking at him, but something he said must have struck a nerve with Marvin. He suddenly stiffened on his stool, shoulders raising as he became tense and turned his head slowly towards Arthur. "Do I know you?" he asked, eyes narrowing as he looked Arthur over.

Arthur shrugged and shook his head. "Don't think so. Like I said, I'm new in town," he lied.

"You sound... your voice..." Marvin paused, throwing back his tequila and making a noise like he was disgusted by it. Fair enough... it certainly wasn't Arthur's favorite. Marvin pushed himself away from the bar, stumbling a bit as he got to his feet. "Never mind. Too much alcohol..." he muttered, "Thanks for the drinks."

Arthur didn't bother to finish his own drink, starting after Marvin. "Whoa, whoa friend! Careful there," he said, catching Marvin when he almost fell. What Marvin didn't realize was that Arthur had purposefully stepped on the heel of his boot to trip him up. Marvin's face was red from the liquor, Arthur's nose crinkling when Marvin spoke and he could smell the alcohol on his breath. He didn't know how much the man had had to drink before he'd bumped into him.

"I'm fine, dammit. Let go of me," Marvin grunted, jerking his arm free from Arthur's grasp and pushing towards the door.

"Hey. Hey!" Arthur hollered, hurrying to intercept Marvin again. "Look, buddy, you've had a lot to drink. Let me at least help get'chu to your room," he suggested, Marvin scoffing at him in reply.

"No room--ain't stayin' here," he said, declining Arthur's offer.

"Fine, wherever it is you're tryin' to get to," Arthur corrected. Dammit, Marvin was being an impossible ass. Then again... what was he doing? What did he really hope to accomplish here? He hadn't expected to run into Marvin here. Not in Saint Denis, of all places. It wasn't like Marvin's ranch... he couldn't just trap him and hold him hostage for his own amusement. Besides, Marvin had seen his face now. Did he really want to let Marvin connect the two together?

Marvin slipped out the door and Arthur's eyes followed after him. It felt like minutes had passed before he started to move again, hurrying to catch up to the drunken idiot. Fuck it, he decided. He didn't care. He wanted... he didn't know what he wanted, he only knew it involved Marvin.

He followed Marvin down the road. His head was a bit addled from the tequila shots, but his gait still straighter than Marvin's own. "Where are you stayin', anyways?" Arthur asked once he'd caught up.

Marvin stopped momentarily to look down a dark street, Arthur damn near running into him when he did. Then he shook his head and pressed onward, mumbling to himself as he went as though Arthur hadn't said a word. Arthur just took a deep breath and tried to keep himself calm. It was weird to see Marvin out in the open doing his own thing, even if that thing was apparently drinking.

Arthur hadn't even realized that Marvin had lead them to another saloon until it was too late, this one even busier than the last with a man banging jollily on a piano and tittering girls lounging all over the place with lace gloved hands squeezing the arms of dapper looking dandies. 

A glass chandelier hung over their heads, vibrant colors popping up everywhere and making Arthur feel oddly bland in turn. Everything was gilded, and Marvin found himself a seat at the bar in no time. There was an open seat beside him, and Arthur had to wonder if that was deliberate.

Marvin flagged down the bartender, demanding a shot of whiskey this time and indicating that Arthur would be the one paying for it.

"What, takin' advantage of my hospitality now?" Arthur teased , though he didn't argue about it.

"Look, you wanna follow me around so bad then you can at least buy my damn drinks," Marvin snapped. He didn't down the whiskey the way he had the tequila, instead nursing it for a bit and looking deep into the glass as he drained it. Arthur wondered what it was that Marvin was hoping to see in the bottom of that little crystal glass. He'd stared down a few for answers in his time as well, but he'd never found any.

Arthur nodded slowly and ordered the same, but he was slow with it. He didn't know what his intentions were yet, but he knew he wasn't planning on getting shitfaced tonight. "So are you stayin' in town, or just drinkin' in town?" he asked Marvin, giving the bartender the go-ahead when Marvin asked for another drink.

"God, you're nosy! What's it to you?" Marvin glared at him and drank his next shot rapidly before demanding another. 

"I'm concerned, s'all. Wouldn't want you fallin' off your horse and dyin' in the gutter all over some irresponsible drinking..." Arthur suggested, even as he agreed to pay for yet another drink. This was easy... this was too easy. He just needed to take it slow and it wouldn't matter anymore that Marvin had seen his face tonight; he wouldn't remember it in the morning. 

Arthur stayed fairly quiet for the rest of their time in that saloon, letting Marvin get drunk off his ass on his dime and following him through the streets of Saint Denis from one bar to another. He watched as Marvin's gait become more and more unsteady, his words slurring though he still managed a coherent thought or two every now and again. The man sure could drink. Arthur hadn't ever seen anyone manage to stay upright after drinking half as much as Marvin had.... 

Walking alongside Marvin, Arthur's eyes looked to the dark sky. It was late... there were few people on this streets at this hour. He was beginning to feel antsy, and a bit of relief flooded him when he realized Marvin was making his way towards a tethered horse. Though... the horse seemed awfully wary of Marvin when he tried to reach for its saddlehorn to hoist himself into the saddle. It spooked a bit, and Arthur grabbed Marvin just in time to prevent him from getting kicked sideways by the beast. 

"You idiot! Is this even your horse!?" Arthur asked incredulously as Marvin tried to break out of his arms and brush himself off. 

"Hell if I know," Marvin answered, entirely unfazed even when he'd almost had his brains spattered along the roadside.

Arthur grabbed at Marvin again to try and steer him away from the horses, hoping to prevent another attempt at horse theft, but Marvin got angry at him for it and turned around to shove him away.

"You cocksucker! You're tryin' to rob me, ain't ya!" Marvin shouted, fumbling to pull his gun from his hip as he yelled at Arthur. "You've been waitin' for the chance, huh? Well, I ain't gonna give it to ya! Thought you had me too drunk ta notice, didn't'cha!"

Arthur raised his hands when Marvin pointed the gun at him, doing his best to appear compliant and non-threatening as Marvin waved the gun around and hollered at him. "I ain't tryin' to rob ya... just a concerned citizen, s'all," he said slowly, repeating the lie he'd been giving Marvin all evening. He moved towards Marvin very slowly as he spoke, Marvin struggling to even reload his pistol. He couldn't keep his aim steady, his feet shifting on the cobbled road as he tried to stay upright. "I swear," Arthur assured him. "Just put the gun down..." 

He hadn't even finished the sentence when he suddenly knocked the gun out of Marvin's hands. It flew a good distance and clattered loudly against the road, Arthur watching where it fell and getting caught off guard when Marvin punched him in the jaw. He yelped in surprise but quickly regained his composure, arms raising to stop Marvin from getting in another blow. He waited for the right moment before tackling Marvin to the ground, the two of them struggling to get the upper hand on one another as they rolled around in the street. Arthur finally got Marvin trapped on his stomach, his knee in Marvin's back and his hands pushing Marvin's face into the bricks of the road.

"Jesus! You're a mean drunk, ain't'cha!" Arthur exclaimed, Marvin snarling something incoherent at him in reply. Arthur laughed and shook his head, his fist meeting with the back of Marvin's skull and knocking him unconscious.


	5. Chapter 5

Marvin came to long after Arthur had carried him back to the hostel he was staying at, the man groaning and rubbing his face as he tried to blink away the confusion he was obviously feeling.

Arthur was sitting in a chair near the bed, his face decorated with that pretty little silver skull mask he loved so much as he watched Marvin look around the room. Marvin's eyes met his and Arthur heard his breath catch in his throat as he tried to understand.

"You... it's you..." Marvin whispered, Arthur chuckling softly and rising from his chair. The mattress dipped beneath him as his knee pressed into it, legs straddling Marvin while his hands caught Marvin's face in them and his calloused thumbs stroked over Marvin's cheeks.

"Did'ja miss me?" Arthur asked, Marvin swallowing thickly. 

Then he surprised Arthur, suddenly moving upwards and throwing his arms around Arthur while his lips desperately found Arthur's and locked him in a kiss.

Arthur's surprised cry was cut short by the kiss, and he found himself laughing into Marvin's mouth as they kissed. "What the fuck was that?" he asked when he broke the kiss, Marvin looking annoyed that Arthur had stopped him and was now putting him off with questions.

"You left. You didn't say anything. You just... left," Marvin said, as if Arthur had forgotten it.

"Yeah," Arthur agreed with a disbelieving snort. "Let ya live, remember?"

Marvin slammed a fist against Arthur's chest, but it wasn't hard enough to do any real damage and was only meant to scold him. "Damn you... damn you to hell," Marvin hissed. "I waited. I waited hours in that bed, days in that house. It was weeks before I stopped lookin' over my shoulder every second expectin' you to be there! And now you're... you're here."

"What're you sayin'? That you really did miss me?" Arthur inquired, liking how Marvin's breath hitched when he kissing his throat and fussed with the buttons on his shirt. 

"No... I... ugh!" Marvin grunted, disgusted with both himself and the situation. "What're you doin'?"

Arthur had been working his way down Marvin's torso, covering him in kisses and bites from collarbone to navel. Marvin was too drunk to notice, but his body was responding very well to Arthur's affections. 

"Whatever I want," he hummed, undoing his own vest and shirt and tossing them to the floor before working on Marvin's pants. 

"Are you... are you gonna suck me again?" Marvin asked, a tangible eagerness and desperation painting his voice when he spoke. Arthur grinned to hear it, not missing for a second how Marvin lifted his hips to aid Arthur in getting his pants off. 

"Maybe," Arthur answered. God, Marvin's face was so red from the booze. Did he even really understand what he was saying? What he was doing? Arthur doubted it, but it didn't matter. He was going to take advantage of all of it. He snaked a hand between Marvin's legs, cupping him and rubbing against him teasingly while tugging on his balls. 

Marvin groaned softly, enjoying whatever it was Arthur was doing to him and relaxing against the pillows. 

Arthur continued his heaving petting, his tongue flicking against Marvin's nipple and teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive bud so that Marvin inhaled sharply. He had plans now... he had all sorts of things in mind for what he was gonna do to Marvin tonight. He waited though, giving Marvin time to become utterly limp and lax just for him. Then he shifted his hand, reaching lower with his fingers following the curve of Marvin's ass. 

Marvin didn't seem to notice... until Arthur's fingers stopped stroking along his ass and one was suddenly forcing its way inside of him. He tensed beneath Arthur, shifting like he meant to pull away from Arthur, but Arthur kept him close and pushed his finger further up inside Marvin's ass.

"No... don't do that," Marvin complained, his hands moving down to try and push Arthur's away. Arthur batted his hands away, eyes narrowing as he looked up at Marvin.

"Marv'..." Arthur whispered, voice low and dangerous as he twisted his finger up inside of Marvin and listened to him cry about it. "You know I hate bein' told what to do."

Marvin gasped and moved abruptly, trying to pull himself away from Arthur and perhaps escape the bed. He wouldn't have been able to. Not in his current state. The bed blankets were rucked up beneath his kicking heels, Arthur forcing him onto his stomach and dragging blunt nails down Marvin's backside. The skin reddened and puckered where his nails scraped, Marvin hissing and cussing at him for it. Arthur smirked, digging his fingers into the meat of Marvin's ass and feeling the muscle deep beneath the fat. Rancher... Marvin had a decent amount of muscle on him from his lifestyle, but it didn't mean anything compared to Arthur's own. Marvin just didn't have the experience needed to fight off a grown man who'd been doing it for years.

"Don't don't don't...!" Marvin repeated, still squirming beneath Arthur in resistance.

Arthur rolled his eyes and squeezed his knees a little tighter around Marvin. It was a warning-- _don't move_ \--as he leaned off the bed and yanked one of the bedside table drawers open. During his shopping earlier in the week he'd stocked up on some medical items, including a little pot of petroleum jelly for burns though tonight he had no need of it for its medicinal uses. Marvin was trying to twist himself around to look at Arthur, but he'd calmed down a bit and was holding onto a pillow like a child might cling to the leg of their parent.

Their eyes met briefly, Marvin's wet and scared and Arthur's hard and determined. They softened a bit to see Marvin trying to stay calm, trying to comply with whatever it was Arthur wanted.... The soft sound of the jar lid being pulled off made Marvin look away, his cheek pressing into the pillow as he inhaled deeply. Arthur found himself suddenly caring a lot more about how this went for Marvin; whether it was good or not, whether or not he hurt Marvin in the process... ha! How could he care if he hurt Marvin? It wasn't right! He had only just earlier beat the man unconscious, and _now_ he was worried about being careful with him? He was worried about being _nice_!?

Dipping his fingers into the jelly, Arthur sighed in annoyance. He didn't want to care, but it was happening anyways. "Just stay calm, okay?" he instructed. "Think about how much you had to drink... you're drunk. Drunk is fun. This is fun."

What was he even saying? He felt like he was just babbling, but the words seemed to resonate well enough with Marvin. Marvin was peeking back at him again, cheeks all ruddy and lips parted as he listened and tried to find meaning in Arthur's words. He bit his lip to hold back a sound when Arthur ran fingers, strangely warm and slick with the petroleum jelly, down his ass and forcefully inserted a finger inside him again. Arthur grinned to feel how Marvin even rocked back towards him a bit, willing to try and find the good in this just because Arthur had told him to.

"Shhh," Arthur whispered, pressing deeper inside of Marvin and listening to him protest. "S'okay... you're alright," he assured him, talking slowly and softly as he worked. His free hand ran along Marvin's backside, stroking over his spine and pushing into the muscle of Marvin's back to loosen him up a bit. He knew Marvin was trying, but he needed him to relax a little more still. Working his finger inside of Marvin, he felt his own breathing grow a little more ragged from his excitement.

Marvin was making good sounds now... encouraging ones. Soft hums and sharp cries, the occasional impossible to contain curse word when Arthur's fingers slid along just the right spot... it was all too easy to slip another finger inside of Marvin after just a little bit of coaxing. Arthur smirked, curling over Marvin and kissing his bare back. He traced his shoulder blades and followed the curve of Marvin's neck, pulling Marvin onto his knees and back against his chest as he played with him. "That's a _good_ boy," Arthur praised, Marvin half managing a nod in reply.

"I hate you..." Marvin slurred, though his words were entirely devoid of the former vitriol they'd held. Arthur could only laugh in return, his stubble-ridden cheek scratching against Marvin's backside.

"That's okay," Arthur hummed, feeling how Marvin tensed as Arthur drove his fingers particularly deep before relaxing again and blowing out a loud breath. Arthur kept going, waiting until he had Marvin moaning and beginning to involuntarily move back against his fingers in search of a consistent, deep penetration. He slowly withdrew his fingers, listening to Marvin mumble some drunken complaint and raising an eyebrow when Marvin reached a hand back towards him.

His hand groped aimlessly, fingers brushing over Arthur's thigh and then stomach as he searched blindly. With a roll of his eyes, Arthur caught Marvin's hand and guided it towards his own stiff member. He inhaled deeply when Marvin's fingers curled around him, tugging on him like he was making a demand of some sort.

"What? What'chu want?" Arthur asked just to mess with him.

"... bastard," Marvin managed, eyes barely able to focus on Arthur's face as he looked back over his shoulder at him. He turned forward again, still trying to maneuver Arthur's cock into his ass but failing miserably. His dexterity was entirely absent, and Arthur could tell it wouldn't be long until Marvin passed out from all the alcohol he'd consumed earlier. He'd be lucky if he could fuck Marvin without him throwing up at this point.

Arthur laughed loudly at the insult, laughing harder still when Marvin strung together an unintelligible sentence that he could only make out two words of: 'fuck', and 'dick'. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be another insult, or a request. He chose to take it as a request, shifting behind Marvin and aligning his cock with Marvin's ass. He had to push Marvin's hand out of the way, Marvin stupidly still trying to 'help' in his mind. It was easy enough to get him distracted again, Marvin keening loudly when Arthur entered him.

He nearly dropped into the mattress, Arthur being the only thing that kept him from tilting right over. His hands still hit the bedding, arms nearly buckling beneath him as he continued to moan.

Arthur's eyes glanced towards the door, assuring himself that it was locked and that no one was going to be bursting in on them anytime soon just because Marvin decided to be a noisy little fuck. He could see the deadbolt chain in place as well, and that made him feel comfortable enough that he wasn't concerned when he bucked into Marvin and Marvin cussed loudly in return. He did it again, biting his lip until he could taste the bitter tang of blood on his tongue.

He wanted to fuck Marvin until he was screaming from it, and he had every intention of doing it too. He rode Marvin until Marvin was hollering and struggling against the sheet beneath him, his hands groping down Marvin's chest and finding Marvin's cock. His fist pumped furiously against Marvin, Marvin gasping as if he was being drowned. Arthur sunk his teeth into Marvin's neck, threatening to break the skin and not letting go even when Marvin instinctively tried to fight him off.

"Fuck! Fu-oh Goooood," Marvin drawled, Arthur smiling between leaving hickeys along Marvin's neck and shoulder.

"Easy... easy," Arthur murmured, his sweat slicked skin sticking to Marvin's backside as he held him and continued to fuck him hard and deep. He could feel in his hand that Marvin was beginning to struggle to maintain his erection, the mix of alcohol, fear, and new sensations battering him down. He was going to fall asleep on Arthur if Arthur wasn't quick enough, despite how loud he was currently being. Arthur slowed his pace, drawing out each thrust and tightening his grip around Marvin's cock.

He gave him long strokes, so tight and deliberate in every movement that Marvin's moaning soon began to sound like a song with no clear melody. He kept going until he felt Marvin seize beneath him, muscles tightening and his ass gripping Arthur's cock tightly as he shakily inhaled and exhaled. Arthur could feel the familiar wet release of Marvin's cock on his hand, but he paid it no mind as he moved against Marvin and shuddered through an exhale. 

God, Marvin had a tight hold on him. He buried his seed deep inside the man, hugging him close before collapsing on the bed beside Marvin and rolling him into his arms to hold in the after glow of it all.

"... I really hate you," Marvin muttered, his breathing uneven as he spoke. 

Arthur chuckled in reply, lips brushing over Marvin's softly while he tried to steady his own breathing. Marvin's hands moved, fingers toying with Arthur's mask and tracing its unusual design. Arthur sighed, catching one of Marvin's hands and kissing each of its knuckles.

"I wanna see your face..." Marvin mumbled, trying to steal back his hand and continue fussing with Arthur's mask.

Arthur tightened his grip, shushing Marvin and kissing him again. "Maybe tomorrow, when yer sober..." he replied, Marvin nodding slowly. And then he fell asleep, trapping Arthur's arm beneath him and drooling on the sheets beside Arthur's head. 

Arthur played with his hair, running his fingers through the dark, thick locks and sighing loudly. What was he going to do? When the morning came, and Marvin woke with a pounding headache and limbs like jelly? Would he be there for Marvin, or would he abandon the room to the drunk rancher and let him work it out on his own? He didn't know yet....

He didn't fall asleep until the night was near over, the sky turning a hazy pink far on the horizon. He wasn't worried about Marvin waking anytime soon; not with the amount he'd had to drink.

~*~

Arthur had counted on Marvin sleeping late enough that he would have time to decide still if he wanted to abandon the man, but those hopes were dashed when he stirred and reached across the bed to find it was devoid of any other person. He groaned, pushing himself upright and rubbing his face. The feel of his temple, warm and soft, snapped him out of his drowsiness.

His mask. He'd fallen asleep in it.

Where was it?

Throwing the covers off, a stream of expletives left his mouth as he scrambled to get up and find his mask. _And Marvin_.

He yanked open drawers as he got dressed, trashing the room as he searched. His guns were as he left them, and his money clip was untouched and still tucked inside his bag. Where the fuck was his mask? Where was Marvin!? 

He was still in the process of tugging his boots on when he left the room, slamming its door shut behind him as he slapped his hat on his head and hurried down the hostel stairs. He nearly ran into a painted lady, almost sending them both careening down the stairs in his haste. She yelled at him for it, but he hardly cared. He needed to find his mask....

Arthur cursed Marvin in his head as he hit the bottom landing, eyes scanning the early drunks already lining up at the bar. He didn't have time to dwell on how pathetic they were, eyes locking on a familiar face with startled green eyes staring back at him. 

"Marvin!" he bellowed, not caring about the attention he drew. 

Marvin straightened in his seat, and for a moment Arthur thought he might bolt. Then he re-situated himself, his face relaxing as he waved Arthur over.

Arthur grit his teeth, irritated that everyone was now staring at him and that he looked like a maniac. "You're a real piece of shit," Arthur growled as he dropped into the seat beside Marvin, Marvin shrugging in reply. "Where the fuck is my mask?"

"It's fine, calm down," Marvin answered, sipping at a glass of what looked like water but could've been vodka.

"Not what I asked," Arthur said, inching a little closer to Marvin and tapping his fingers on the counter impatiently. " _Where_ is _my_ mask?"

"Jesus! Calm the fuck down! It's safe," Marvin snapped, almost slamming his glass on the counter as he spoke. "You can have it back later."

"Boy, you do not know who you are fuckin' with," Arthur snarled, almost grabbing Marvin then and there to beat the shit out of him. If it were Valentine or any other small town, he might've. But, this was Saint Denis and the place was littered with police. There would be no beating Marvin to a pulp... at least, not yet.

Marvin laughed derisively and glared at the liquor bottles lining the back wall of the bar. "You're right. I don't," he agreed, his leg bouncing as he spoke. Arthur could feel it through the bar. "But, if this is gonna be what happens, I wanna fucking know."

"If _what_ happens?" Arthur asked, eyes steeled as he watched Marvin. God he wanted to throttle the man. He just wanted that little silver mask back. He felt violated... Marvin had taken it, and now he didn't know where it was hidden. Killing Marvin wouldn't help either. Not until he knew where his mask was.

" _This_ ," Marvin said, gesturing between the two of them. "You. Whatever the hell this thing is."

"What thing? There's no thing."

"Shut up!" Marvin yelled, turning to burn Arthur with a furious gaze that held vast amounts of pain behind it. "You are _ruining_ my life. You're ruining _me_! I have a right to know who the hell you are!"

Arthur almost lost it then, his hands white-knuckling the counter top as he tried to stop himself from hauling off and hitting Marvin right then and there. He took in a deep breath, flagging down the bartender and requesting a drink even though he'd been awake no more than twenty minutes. He slammed back a shot of whiskey, trying to stop himself from shaking with anger at Marvin. Still, he was pissed. "Marvin... why don't we take a walk? We can discuss this... privately."

Marvin laughed loudly at the suggestion, daring to even clap Arthur on the shoulder as he shook his head. "Fuck you," he said after he'd stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "Look, I'm... _open_ to this... whatever it is. I just am tired of being the one in the hot seat. You've got my name. You know where I live. Fuck, you stole all my guns and my dignity with them. I've got nothing on you, and this may be my only shot at changing that."

Arthur bit the inside of his cheek and shifted in his chair, scowling at his empty shot glass and thinking about Marvin's words. "I'm really not in a negotiatin' mood right now, Marv'," Arthur stressed, "Really, _really_ just want my mask back. Then I'll be on my way."

"Nuh-uh," Marvin disagreed immediately, resting his elbows on the counter as he leaned forward in his seat. He didn't look at Arthur when he spoke again, eyes staring straight ahead as though he were only talking to himself. "I already said it; you've ruined me. And I'm gonna let it be that way-"

This time it was Arthur who found himself laughing. The absolute ridiculousness of the statement had him in stitches, and he had to fight to get himself under control while wiping away tears of laughter. "You're gonna _let_ it? Marvin, you don't get a say in any of this shit! Stupid little shithead... I _own_ your ass now."

Marvin made a face and huffed at Arthur's declaration. "Fine. If you say so," he said, smugly continuing, "but, I've got your mask."

Arthur ran his tongue over his teeth as he thought about that, unsure what to say in reply. Marvin had him there... and he did want the damn thing back. "Jesus Christ, Marvin... you might be more trouble than you're worth... maybe I'll just kill ya anyways."

Marvin rolled his eyes and waved over the bartender to order them each another drink. "I'm only asking for a little information, and you don't even know what that is yet," he pointed out, sliding his fingers up and down his glass when he received it but not taking a drink from it just yet. 

"Fine, like what?"

"Easy shit... your name, and if I'm gonna see you again," Marvin suggested.

"Shit... you already know my name. It's Arthur."

" _Last name_ ," Marvin reiterated, "and _am I going to see you again_?"

"Oh, c'mon Marvin..." Arthur grumbled.

"Do you want your mask or not?" 

"... It's Morgan, you shithead," Arthur answered, pausing to throw back the drink Marvin had ordered him and exhaling sharply at its potent taste. "Don't know yet," he added.

Marvin's eyes narrowed at Arthur's answers, but apparently they passed muster. He finished his own drink and threw a few extra coins on the counter, gesturing for Arthur to come with him as he got up and left the bar. Arthur sighed irritably, getting up to follow regardless. 

Marvin took him back up the hostel steps, leading him back towards the room. He hadn't seen yet how torn up it had gotten in Arthur's frenzy to find his mask. He stopped before the door, hand slipping into his coat to fish out Arthur's mask and press it into his hands. 

"There. Your dumb fuckin' mask," he said, his tone almost sounding jealous of the little metal ornamental thing. "We done here? Can I go now?"

Arthur's eyes did a sweep of the hall, seeing nothing and no one of interest. Without any prying eyes upon them, he suddenly grabbed Marvin and slammed him back against the door. His hand was on Marvin's throat, grip tight as he choked him and brought his face mere inches away. 

"Never pull such a stupid stunt again, or I swear you won't live next time," he growled ominously, Marvin struggling to breathe correctly as Arthur held him against the door. Then Arthur kissed him, a deep and possessive kiss that was just as threatening as his grasp on Marvin's neck. He let go, turning from Marvin and leaving him to figure out how to breathe properly on his own while he made his way downstairs.

Oh, he would be seeing Marvin again alright. Marvin was in deep shit still.

Arthur would punish him later. Right now, he was worn out and just needed a long hunting trip. _Alone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! That's it.
> 
> Any thoughts on an epilogue? I have many ideas, I could tell you exactly where this all goes (besides in Marvin's ass).
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
